


The Dragonborn and the Former Falmer Servant

by Kimmirut



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmirut/pseuds/Kimmirut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a land divided, the Dragonborn (Callum) must eventually choose sides:  Should he choose the Empire, as his lineage dictates?  Or should he choose Ulfric, who most true Nords support?</p><p>The former Falmer servant rises above what her life was as a slave.  She becomes strong, but also can be cold and unfazed.</p><p>As different as they are, they remain friends, and choose to navigate this adventure together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Having Left Blackreach

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything pertaining to Skyrim and I by no means profit from this fanfiction.
> 
> Okay, after three months (when I first posted the first chapter), last night I had a bit of a break through. Now I have a rough idea of where this is going. It will probably be long. There will also probably be a romance later on between Callum and Ariani, but I haven't decided for sure.
> 
> I do not know how often updates will come. I am currently working on a Dragon Age 2 story and that is my priority. I do not intend to leave this unfinished though, even if it takes me a while to update, such as the three months between chapters 1 and 2. :)
> 
> I will keep the Teen rating probably throughout. If a chapter ever moves (in my opinion) to a M warning, I will place a warning at the beginning of the chapter. I do not write sex scenes and I use the fade to black if they happen. There may be light making out/kissing written in later chapters. Typical violence from the game can be expected, so I may not warn prior to that. Also, curse words may be used sparsely.
> 
> Also, I write in limited third person rotational (a la Game of Thrones). Most, if not all, chapters will be from the perspective of Callum or Ariani, since they are the main characters.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy.

Had Septimus Signus mentioned how tedious and lengthy the journey would be to charge the Lexicon, Callum very well may have chosen to delay the quest, if not reject it outright. Aftland was a huge fortress and teeming with Falmer. Many times while exploring the ruins, Callum cursed himself for not bringing more potions or a healer to aid him. Instead, Callum had to rely on Farkas, who wasn't nearly as smart as his skill with a sword. Sure, it was nice having a strong warrior to charge into battle without a second thought, but sometimes foresight and planning was nice.

It may have taken weeks, but they did complete what they set out to do. Even now, Callum and Farkas were headed towards Septimus Signus' outpost. Callum shifted a little closer to their campfire because of the frigid night air. He rubbed his hands together, and then placed the palms facing out towards the fire to warm them even more.

“Do you think she will wake soon?”

Farkas looked at the girl, still unconscious, that they had placed on a bedroll. He shrugged. “How am I to know?” Farkas paused a second, before adding, “I think the better question would be 'will she ever wake up again'.”

Callum just looked at him, but didn't speak. Rubbing his hands together again, he got up and approached the sleeping woman. Her dark hair fell in disarray around her shoulders. Taking in her ragged robes, he pulled the blanket up towards her shoulders.

“What do you make of her? Of the others we found?”

Farkas sighed loudly, slightly annoyed by all the questions before bed. “You know, Cal, if you wanted a lot of conversation, it would have been better if you had invited my brother. That's his specialty. I came to kill things; not to talk all the hours of the night away with you.”

Callum couldn't help but smile a little. “Had I wanted Vilkas here,” Callum replied quietly, “I would have invited him instead of you.”

It seemed in Skyrim that brawn was valued over brains, but sometimes it appeared to Callum that Farkas did indeed feel less important than his brother, who was known as the more intelligent, well-spoken one. Farkas was a good man, and one of the first to somewhat embrace Callum when he had joined the Companions. Besides, Farkas could be quite funny, and sometimes that made the lengthy missions more bearable.

Since Callum had thought the conversation finished, it surprised him when Farkas began to talk. “I've heard tales of beasts stealing children away in the night. Perhaps it was the Falmer.” He looked over at Callum and the sleeping woman. “She could be one of those children. Or perhaps the Falmer capture and enslave anyone strolling too close to their ruins.”

“Is there more detail from these tales?” Callum asked.

Farkas scoffed, looking a bit irritated. “Tell you what, Cal, ask her when she wakes up. That is if she doesn't try to stab you again.”

“I'm just curious, is all,” Callum answered. Even if he didn't care for the cold, he found Skyrim fascinating. It was so different from the Imperial City he grew up in.

“Yes, well, I'm tired,” Farkas responded. “I don't even know why you insisted on taking her with us. Better to have left her where she was.”

“As far as I could tell, we killed all the Falmer. Where would she have gone?”

“I don't know, but it is not a good idea to take your enemies with you when you leave the battlefield.”

“She would have died there. There was no one else alive. Even if there was, a life serving the Falmer can hardly be called a life.”

“Maybe so, maybe not. But it was not our problem. She was not our problem,” Farkas said, a bit pointedly. He paused a moment. “If it was too much for your conscious, we could have left her alive. You needn't have killed her, but you needn't have taken her with us either.”

“Just because things are not my problem does not mean I should not get involved,” Callum said, a little more sharply than normal.

Farkas' eyes narrowed a little. “You mean like with you and the Imperials. Ulfric should be King, yet you still talk with the Imperials and their would-be false High Queen.” His words had taken on an accusatory, harsh tone.

“I have not made my decision when it comes to the Stormcloaks and Jarl Elisif,” Callum ground out. “And I will not be swayed by the opinions of comrades. I will come to the right conclusion in due time, until then I will meet with whomever I see fit.”

“Like I should expect more. You are not a Nord. You do not understand.”

Callum's green eyes flashed in hurt. After all he had done with the Companions, he had thought he was accepted as one of them. Even if he was born and raised an Imperial, Callum let his conscious lead him, not his heritage. He would have thought that evident in the missions he had already undertaken for the Companions and various other individuals.

“I understand a great deal,” Callum said, quietly. He paused a moment, but began talking again before Farkas could. “It has been a long couple of weeks. You can sleep first, I'll keep watch.”

“Good,” Farkas responded, settling down on his bedroll.

“I'll make sure she doesn't cut your throat in the middle of the night,” Callum called out. Farkas laughed at that. Turning his attention back to the woman, Callum brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. He couldn't help how curious he was about her. He had never expected people to serve the Falmer. Hopefully, if she did wake, he could talk with her rationally. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to kill her.

Giving the woman one last look, Callum stood up and returned to his spot by the fire. Stroking the great sword laying beside him, he begin to watch the perimeter for any approaching beings. It would be several long, cold hours before Farkas' shift began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was in Blackreach, I was surprised by the Falmer Servants there and thus the idea of Ariani was loosely born.


	2. Riften is Home

**One Year Later . . .**

Ariani enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face, and thoroughly ignored the faint musky smell that Riften always seemed to have. She had spent six months with the Companions after Callum had taken her from the Falmer, and she had spent the last six months in Riften. She strongly preferred Riften. It just felt like home to her. She was now Guild Master to the Thieves Guild, a secret that was well kept. Truth be told, she felt that Brynjolf would have been better suited, but he seemed convinced it should be her. It was her hand that slew Mercer, but she had been a member for such a short amount of time, and the promotion had greatly surprised her.

While the Companions had accepted her first before the others, she did not feel at home there. They only accepted her because Callum accepted her. A year ago Callum had been on the lower rung of the Companions, but the Harbinger seemed to favor him, so he had some influence in the decision of keeping Ariani on. Being that she was a Nord probably helped, as well.

Dark memories would plague her there and she did not enjoy being in Jorrvaskr. It reminded her how weak and afraid she was the many weeks following her rescue from the Falmer. She did not like to think of that. Callum, primarily, had been the one to help her. With him, she had gained confidence. All she remembered prior to him was a grueling, terrible life with the Falmer; therefore, she felt no connection to being a Nord, felt she owed no loyalty.

Shaking her head lightly, she decided to head to her house before it got too dark. She walked on silent feet towards her home, Honeyside. It had been her home for the better part of three months. It was nice having somewhere solely her own to lay her head. The beds in the Thieves Guild just felt too in the open.

Opening the door, she exchanged a greeting with her housecarl, Iona. Normally she would barely pay attention to the greetings, but this time she was pleasantly surprised when Iona told her Brynjolf waited for her in her enchanting area. That had been a waste of money. She never really saw the reason for enchanting, choosing to purchase any needed enchanted items instead. The desk was useful, though, and her many notes were strewn throughout the room.

Brynjolf was leafing through some papers on the desk when she entered. She did not mind for he would find nothing of interest there. Important papers were safely hidden from all eyes, save her own. She saw Rune, a fellow guild member, was leaning against the wall. She kept the surprise from her voice, and casually said, “Brynjolf, Rune.” It was the first time Brynjolf had sought her out in her home. She waited for them to talk and say why they were there.

“Ah, Ariani. It is good to see you, lass,” Brynjolf said, looking up from the papers.

She turned to Rune expectantly. “My sister in crime,” was all he said.

Ariani looked back toward Brynjolf. “'It is good to see me', huh? You are in my house, Brynjolf, did you not expect to see me?” she asked jokingly. Since Brynjolf occupied her chair, she chose to lean against the desk, partially sitting on it.

Brynjolf folded his hands on the table. “Well, we came to talk to you, Guild Master.”

“It is Guild business, then?” she asked, seeing how that was usually the only reason he referred to her by her title.

“In a sense,” Brynjolf answered. He looked towards Rune, but spoke to her. “Rune is still no closer to figuring out the mysteries of his past.”

She looked to Rune. “I am sorry,” she said sympathetically, though this was no new news. She was at a loss to help him and gladly would if she had some direction to go on.

When more would have been spoken, the sound of additional footsteps upstairs paused the words. They all watched as a man climbed down the stairs. Ariani was pleased to see it was Callum, but not so pleased to see the shaggy, grey dog following at his heels. Callum stopped, standing near the stairway, when he saw Ariani was not alone.

“Dragonborn,” Brynjolf greeted with cool respect.

Before Callum could answer, Ariani spoke up. “We will finish this discussion later,” she told Brynjolf and Rune in a tone bearing no compromise. Callum still had no clue that she was part of the Thieves Guild and he was like to faint if he did.

“Very well, Guild-” Brynjolf stopped short at the glare she gave him. He amended his statement. “Very well, lass. We will talk later.” He got up from the chair, with Rune following behind him. As he passed Callum on the way to the stairs, he let out a crisp, “Dragonborn.”

Callum gave a short nod and watched them go, before meeting her eyes. “You know, you would think he does not know my name.”

“Perhaps he has forgotten,” Ariani answered. Callum had only met Brynjolf a few times and they had barely spoken more than two words together.

“You keep odd company, Ari,” Callum said as he stepped further into the room, the dog following at his feet. Callum lowered his voice to a whisper, despite the fact Brynjolf had surely already left the house. “They say that he is a thief, and not just a typical one. That he works with the Thieves Guild, apparently pretty high up, too, if the rumors can be believed.”

Ariani attempted to change the subject. “I thought I made it clear that I did not enjoy a dog in my house,” she said, looking sternly at the mongrel. “Yet the very next time I see you, what is following at your feet?”

Callum looked down at the dog, who now sat obediently at his feet. Kneeling, he pet the dog fondly. While still kneeling, he again looked at her. “He is a very good dog,” he told her in a very serious tone.

She let out a huff of air in mild annoyance. “You and your dogs. Brynjolf would do better to call you the Dog Lover.” She looked the dog over again. Most of the dogs here appeared the same, but if you looked closely you could see slight differences. “This is not the same one as before. Not the stray usually trailing after you.”

Callum smiled, seeming pleased she could tell the difference. “You are right,” he answered. “This is not Dog.”

“You named that stray 'Dog'?” She laughed at that. “That's original.” After pausing a moment, she asked, “if you named the stray, does that mean he is a stray no longer?”

Callum stood up. “He is a stray no longer,” he confirmed. “Lucia wanted to adopt him, so I allowed it.” He reached down and pet the dog again. “This is Meeko. My other daughter, Sofie, choose to keep him. She was nice enough to allow me to take him along on this adventure.”

Ariani's eyes widened. “I did not know you had children. You were not even married last month when we spoke. And they are evidently old enough to talk. Keeping secrets are you, Cal?”

It was Callum's turn to laugh. “I am not married. Lucia and Sofie are adopted. Both had terrible lots in life and I had the extra room in my house.” He paused, still smiling. “You could come to Whiterun and meet them.”

“Yes, visiting two children and two mutts, sounds like my kind of vacation,” she said sarcastically.

The smile fell from Callum's face and he became serious. “You could visit Jorrvaskr at the same time. It has been difficult for the Companions to accept Kodlak's death.”

“But they have you to lead them, _Harbinger_ ,” she said, stressing his title, and purposely bowing her head for a moment.

He blushed lightly at her words. Clearing his throat, he said, “and I do my best. They follow my lead, entrust me with their well being.” He paused. “It is a difficult thing being a leader. Being the Dragonborn and the Harbinger lays a lot of responsibility on my shoulders. If you led a faction, you would surely relate to such difficulties.”

 _How little you know, dear friend_ , she thought. The Thieves Guild depended on her guidance and followed her lead, but she could hardly tell Callum that. “So what brings you to my home, Callum?”

“I came to visit you about a week ago, only you were not home,” he said.

“I was doing something for someone,” she said, choosing not to clarify. While Callum disliked the Thieves Guild, he absolutely despised the idea of the Dark Brotherhood. It was the idea because he was thoroughly convinced that the Dark Brotherhood was little more than a dark tale told to scare children. Last week she had been traipsing through a Dwemer ruin, slaying Alain Dufont, at the Brotherhood's decree. She could hardly tell Callum that. “What did you need?” she asked, so he would not question what she had been doing.

“Oh, it was nothing important. I had wanted a break from the mundane 'help the Imperials, help Ulfric' that everyone throws my way. Gets kind of tiring.” He paused, indeed looking tired in that moment. Since he had slain Alduin, the Empire and Ulfric had been pushing him to pick a side, and he seemed reluctant to do. “Anyways, you weren't here, so I went for a drink at The Bee and Barb. I met an interesting fellow named Sam there, and he challenged me to a drinking contest.”

“That doesn't seem like a good idea,” Ariani commented. Callum usually refrained from drinking and most Nords could out-drink him easily. “Did he take your purse?”

“No, Ari. But I passed out and when I awoke . . . when I awoke . . .” he paused, almost seeming ashamed of what he was going to say. “Well, it was certainly a fiasco, but I don't think I need to go into it. Suffice to say, I apparently did some crazy, completely out of character things. Of which, I have no memory.”

“Do tell,” she demanded.

“Well, I apparently fondled the statues at the Temple of Dibella,” he said quietly, a light blush again staining his cheeks. “And trashed the Temple.”

“The statues didn't like being fondled, then?” Ariani asked with mirth. She enjoyed teasing him and making him blush. She also enjoyed the joking and banter they often shared. He was one of very few that she let her guard down when around them.

“Well, I didn't ask,” he said, almost snapping at her. She laughed. He sighed heavily. “Anyways, after multiple apologies and righting the Temple, the priestess said I talked of Rorikstead.”

“Okay.”

He sighed again. “I thought you might want to accompany me, Ari. It could be fun,” he said.

“And it could be dreadfully boring,” she responded, purposely sounding grave. Then she smiled. “I guess so. How long could it take? Besides, it might be fun to see what kind of mischief you got yourself into.”

He smiled back. “Good, that is great, Ari. Despite my best attempts, Meeko doesn't really talk.” He looked down at the dog, who barked a few times. “At least not in a language I can understand.” He then met her gaze again. “I will be staying at The Bee and Barb when you are ready to leave in the morning.”

As he turned to head up the stairs, Ariani stopped him. “There is no reason to waste your money, Cal. There is an extra bed here. You are welcome to it.” She then glanced at the dog. “He stays outside, though,” she said in a sharper tone.

“Aw,” Callum complained. He reached down and stroked the dog's fur fondly. “Sorry, old friend. _She_ says you must stay outside,” he whispered. Straightening, he looked back at her. “Very well, Ariani. I appreciate the hospitality.”

She nodded. “Iona can show you to your bed. I would stay up a bit longer.” 

They bid one another good night and he disappeared up the stairs. Ariani took a seat at the desk. She reached for the well-worn book on the corner. This was her favorite book, the book which named her. She had found it hidden in a cupboard in Jorrvaskr not long after Callum had brought her there. It was a tale of woman named Ariani, who had been a slave from birth, but rose above it and became a strong woman and champion. She had picked the name 'Ariani' based on the character. Among the Falmer, she had no name and could recall nothing from her life before. She was Ariani now and, even if by some miracle she discovered her true identity, she would be Ariani still, until she died.

Opening it, she began to read.


	3. Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be a longer chapter than I usually write, but I really wanted to include Gleda/Ennis, as well as Britte/Sissel/Lemkil. I also used a lot of dialogue from the game. This won't happen in every chapter (or most chapters), but since it was an introductory chapter for some characters and about a quest from the game, I thought it appropriate. Enjoy.

Rorikstead was a quaint, little village with crop fields scattered throughout. It was the first time that Callum had seen the town, but it appeared much the same as the other little villages he had visited in his travels. He was pleased Ariani had agreed to accompany him. It was nice having someone to talk with on the long walks from one town to another. The dogs were nice to have along when he traveled, too, but they did not talk back. Well, except for Barbas, but he was long gone. Barbas had had the most interesting voice.

Callum knew that he and Ariani made quite the sight adventuring together. She was every inch a warrior, from her light armor to her double swords and he appeared ever the mage, even down to the robes he wore. When they passed travelers on the way, she seemed to garner respect, while he heard them joke about his 'magic' when they thought he could not hear. These Nords were an odd bunch; preferring to take what they wanted through brute force, rather than considering other avenues of approach, such as spells or even talking.

“So who are we looking for?” Ariani asked, breaking the silence.

Callum drew to a stop, looking around the houses. “I don't rightly know. The Priestess just said something about Rorikstead, nothing about who I talked to there. I imagine we'll just ask whomever we come upon.”

Ariani gave a little shrug. “Okay. Sounds fair enough. Lead the way.”

Callum kept a keen eye out for anyone to talk to. Surely he would be the one doing the talking and asking, as Ariani could be a bit gruff with her approach. As they rounded one homestead to the garden, a man’s indignant voice caught their attention.

“You! You’ve got a lot of nerve showing yourself in this town again,” it boomed at them. Callum turned to see a Redguard farmer approach him with a furious face. Callum took a step back as the farmer came right up to him and poked him in the chest. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Callum finally sputtered out, his face growing warm with the shame of his unknown act. “I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.” He kind of regretted bringing Ariani with him now. He had little doubt now that whatever he did here would be as unsavory as what he had done at the Temple.

“Is that so?” he asked, sounding unbelieving. “Does the name Gleda ring a bell? The star beauty of my farm?” Callum shook his head, having no clue of what he was talking about. The man continued. “Kidnapped by a drunk lout and sold to a giant. You better remember her right fast, before I call the guards and have you hauled away.”

Callum’s face drained of blood at his words. The man awaited an answer, to which Callum did not know what to say. Surely, he would not have kidnapped this man’s . . . younger sister, perhaps? Even in a completely inebriated state, he had to hope that he would not have done that. Unable to come up with a decent answer, Callum mumbled, “that sounds pretty bad.”

“You’re damned right it does,” the man threw back at him.

“So you kidnapped a girl?” Ariani asked, breaking in to the conversation. She gave a little, tinkling laugh. “I never would have thought it of you, Cal. Perhaps the barbaric ways of Skyrim has finally rubbed off on you. Is she to be your girls’ mother?” Callum was swiftly taken aback by her words and looked in a bit of shock to her face. Mischief glinted in her eyes and he then knew she was poking fun at the situation. He was certain that she knew that he was incapable of such a thing.

“Ari, this is not a time to joke,” he told her, more sternly than he ever really spoke.

The man sent a glare at Ariani for a second, before returning his gaze once again to Callum. “I’ll never breed another prize winning goat like Gleda.”

“A goat?” Callum asked in relieved disbelief. “Thank the Gods it was a goat and not a girl!”

The man did not seem impressed by his words. “She is a prize winning goat! My pride and joy!” He fixed Callum with a hard, determined gaze. “Get her back. And don’t think of coming back to Rorikstead until you get her back from that Giant.”

“What giant?” Callum asked a bit reluctantly. He could try bribing the man for the information, but that hardly seemed the right thing to do. It was his folly that had entrusted this goat to a giant. It was his place to set it right.

Before the man could answer, Ariani cut in. “Did he say anything about a staff?” Her voice was crisp and demanding.

The man glared for a few moments before finally answering her. “He mentioned something like that . . . when he was running off with my goat.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Tell you what, girlie, if the two of you bring back my goat, maybe I’ll tell you two about the staff.”

“Maybe you’ll tell us now,” she countered in a deadly quiet voice.

Callum could tell she was getting irritated and took a step closer to her, resting his hand lightly on her arm. It was to the farmer he spoke, though. “If you would please point us in the direction of this giant.”

“It was about a week ago, but you went that way with Gleda. Running off like a thief in the night,” he said, pointing in the direction opposite of the way they came into town.

Ariani let out a heavy sigh. “Tell you what, farmer. Tell me everything you know about the staff and you may not end up like your goat.” A threatening tone was clear in her voice and this was amplified by her shrugging off Callum’s hand and resting her right hand on the hilt of one of her swords. The threat was clear as day.

“Okay, okay,” the man replied, now looking slightly afraid of her. He then sought out Callum with his eyes. “Most of what you said was gibberish, unintelligible, but you left a note. The only bit I could read said, ‘after repaying Ysolda in Whiterun’. Perhaps you should look there.”

Callum felt badly that Ariani had frightened the poor farmer into submission. He reached for his coin purse and held it out towards the man. “Here. Payment for your goat and your help.”

The man’s eyes grew at the weight of the pouch when he took it from Callum. Callum knew that it contained roughly one thousand gold, as that is what he generally took for any purchases he wanted to make on his way. Most of his gold, far more than that sum, was safely tucked away at his house in Whiterun. He would just pick up more when they made their way to Whiterun to talk to Ysolda.

“Fine, but I’ll still be missing my Gleda.” The man shrugged and then gave a bitter sigh. “Still, I suppose it was more than I would get for a goat, even a prize winning one.” The man then turned back to hoeing his farm, giving Callum no more heed.

Callum turned from the man and gestured with a nod for Ariani to leave with him. Thankfully, she followed without objection. Sometimes she could be so coarse in her dealings with other people. Perhaps it was because of her living with the Falmer for so long. Surely Callum himself could be too nice to people, but he could find little to excuse outright rudeness.

“You didn't need to threaten him, you know,” Callum ground out quietly.

Ariani stopped and looked him square in the face. She let out a huff of air in annoyance. “Did you really want to fight a giant? For a goat? Truly?”

“Not my idea of a good afternoon, no, but that giant has Gleda because of my actions, even if I can't remember them.” Callum paused a moment, before adding, “besides it cost me one thousand gold because we didn't go after her.”

“You didn't need to pay him at all, Cal. He had already given you the information before you offered him compensation,” she said in a matter of fact tone. Callum was a bit taken aback by her coldness in regards to the situation. When she saw him watching her, she added in a slightly annoyed voice, “if you truly wish it, I am sure the Giant is still there. And, if luck is with you, he may not have eaten your lady goat yet. We can still slay him.”

Callum sighed. “No, we should go to Whiterun and see what else I did.” As he started to walk again, he felt the need to glance back towards where the farmer was. Looking forward again, he muttered, “I just would make friends, rather than enemies. What if I need his assistance for something in the future?”

“He is a farmer, Cal. What possible use do you foresee of him in the future?” She did not wait for him to answer. “How long have you been in Skyrim?”

He was a bit taken aback by her question, since it seemed to have nothing to do with what they were talking about. “Nearly two years,” he answered.

“So you have been in Skyrim for two years and this is the first time you have set foot in Rorikstead. I do not think you truly need to concern yourself with whether or not you may need the farmer's help later down the line.” She began to walk more briskly through the small town, and he was forced to pick up his pace to keep beside her.

“A logical point,” he finally conceded, though he still felt troubled. He glanced back to where the giant supposedly was and felt a little pang of regret. He really ought to go and try to save Gleda, but what Ariani said made sense. It had been over a week since he had given the goat to the Giant. There was little hope that the goat was still alive. Beside, one thousand gold would surely buy the farmer a new goat of comparable value, but he still felt a bit of regret.

Callum was so lost in his thoughts of Gleda that he nearly jumped as a blonde child ran up beside them. Soon after, a brunette girl, similar in age to the first, approached as well, but she was yelling. “You're going to get it, Sissel!”

The blonde child, Sissel, turned to see the other girl's approach. “Why? What did I do?” she asked in a raised, defensive voice.

“I told you to weed the garden by sunset and you didn't do it,” the brunette child said. “Now you're in big trouble!” She moved toward Sissel, with her arm up, poised to hit. Callum stepped in-between the two of them.

“What's all this?” he asked, trying to sound more adult and in control than he felt. The brunette lowered her hand, but still glared at the other child. When she did not answer him, he looked to the girl called Sissel.

Tears formed in her brown eyes. “Papa told her to do it, not me,” she answered. She then turned her eyes on the other girl. “It was your job to do, Britte.”

The brunette, Britte, stayed where she was, but her eyes glared daggers at her sister. Callum tried to play peacemaker. “Now that is enough of that. Surely you two could get the work done together, thereby giving your father no cause to be angry.”

Britte let out a puff of air. “I am the older sister, by nearly five minutes. She should listen to me.” Britte spit on the ground in disgust, before glaring at Sissel again. “Sissel is barely worthy to walk in my shadow.” A small smile then played on her lips. “If you beat up my sister, I won't tell.”

Callum was a bit shocked by her words, and he was reminded of Braith. He tried to make his voice sound authoritative. “There will be no beating taking place.” Ariani stood silent, just observing, letting him handle it on his own. She almost seemed to enjoy his discomfort.

Britte harrumphed loudly, then raced away from them without another word. Callum turned back to Sissel. “You do not need to be afraid, child. I will talk to your father, if you truly believe your sister's threats.”

Sissel shook her head slightly. “Papa won't care. If the work is not done, we pay.” She took a deep breath. “The beating's the same from either one, only Papa hits harder.”

Callum was saddened by her general tone of acceptance. “Perhaps I can still talk to him,” he said, at a loss of what to say further to comfort her. “You should not be in fear of your kin.” He did not look to Ariani, for he knew she was likely rolling her eyes at his bleeding heart.

Perhaps what he said had lifted the girl's spirits, for her face seemed to light up. “Someday soon,” she said wistfully, “I'll stop being afraid. Jouane is teaching me magic. He says I'm real good.”

Callum had to smile a bit at her obvious pride in learning magic. It was a rare quality in Skyrim. Surprisingly, it was Ariani who spoke. “That's just great,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “A small child learning magic. A splendid idea!”

Callum was thankful that Sissel did not catch on to Ariani's sarcasm. The child just beamed at her. “Thank you,” she said, before she raced away from them.

“It is a good thing for a person to learn magic,” Callum said quietly, not looking at Ariani. He had to wonder if she secretly criticized his use of magic, as well, since that was what he was most skilled with.

“Whether it is good for a person to learn magic or not is debatable; however, no good can come from teaching a child the magical arts, especially one with an upbringing such as hers.”

“You really know how to put a damper on things,” he replied.

“It's a gift,” Ariani said flippantly. “Let's move on before it is too dark to make it to Whiterun.”

“Fine,” he said. Ariani followed him once more in silence, as he began to lead the way again out of town.

He decided to go around one of the houses, more to ensure Britte was not beating Sissel in eyesight, but decided to tell Ariani that he was just looking for wild herbs if she asked. They came upon a withered man, tending his field. Choosing not to bother him, Callum turned to go back the way he came to the main road. The man heard them, though, and lifted his head. A look of disgust was on his face and Callum hoped he had not offended him too, when he was drunk. The man ground out, “I got enough troubles, so don't go adding to them.”

Callum stopped where he was, uncertain of what to say. You would think he was use to this gruff approach that many Nords were accustomed to using, but it still took him aback every time. Thankfully, Ariani only said, “sorry for the trouble,” before she, too, turned to leave.

As they turned to go back on the road, the man's voice stopped them. “Do yourselves a favor and don't have children. They're good for nothing at all.”

Callum felt his face heat at the thought of this man mistaking him and Ariani for being a couple. The idea was absurd. Surely anyone could see the friendship between them, and nothing more. Then he thought on the words and stopped his retreat. He turned back to the old man, asking hesitantly, “you are Sissel's father? Sissel and Britte's?”

“Their mother was my wife, if that is what you mean.” He gave no more answer than that and disgust was clear in his voice.

Callum tried to gather his thoughts before he spoke. “There seems to be some . . . tension between them.” He hardly wanted to accuse the man of beating his children or to accuse that one of his daughters was a bully to the other.

“Tension, huh? I guess you could call it that.” The man chuckled a bit, then his voice grew harsh. “It doesn't matter. It is none of your business, outsider. Keep your nose out of it.”

Callum's back straightened a little at the rebuff. Though the words stung his pride, he attempted an indifferent tone. “As you say, sir. Thank you for the assistance.” He gave a brief nod, before turning again. The man snorted, but did not answer.

They walked away back to the road leading out of Rorikstead. The little girl, Sissel, weighed heavily on his mind. How anyone could mistreat such a sweet child was beyond him. What kind of adult could she be with that kind of upbringing? Surely the hate would kill her hope after a while.

“You did not intervene on the child's behalf,” Ariani quietly observed. She sounded slightly surprised.

Callum didn't answer right away, as they continued walking down the road of Rorikstead. “And what could I do? He is her father and it is not my place to tell him how to raise his child. He did not seem at all receptive. I may as well just talk to a brick wall for all the good it will do me.” He knew he was being somewhat defensive, but he couldn’t help it.

“That hasn't stopped you before,” she replied, a bit of mirth evident in her voice.

Callum stopped where he was, to look at her. “Would that I could bend him to my will. Some men simply do not listen to reason and to what should be done. What would you have me do? Shout at him and blast him with magic until he does as I want?”

“Nothing that theatrical, I assure you.” She gave a little laugh. “Though that would be interesting to watch.”

“We are only here in this town passing through. While he may listen to me while we are here, he can do as he pleases when we leave and could treat her more harshly than he does now.” Callum sighed, again saddened by the situation.

“Maybe someone else will help the girl,” Ariani offered. She waited a moment, before touching his arm slightly and looking in the direction to Whiterun. “Let’s be on our way. If we hurry, we may make it there without having to camp out in the wild for the night.”

“And you could meet Sofie and Lucia,” he added, feeling a bit better at that idea. “They are quite darling. The best daughters that I could have asked for. You’ll love them.”

“Of course,” Ariani replied, though she looked less than convinced. They began to walk again and Callum began to think of some adventure he could tell her about. Perhaps he should tell her of what was going on with the Companions, though he doubted she would care. Still, it would be many hours before they reached Whiterun. Surely they would come up with something to talk about. They always did.


	4. Speaking of Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter 1 of 2 that I am posting today (9/20/2014).

The cackling of the fire broke the silence of the night. Ariani had to smile a little when she looked at Callum, with his beloved dog curled up against his side. As it was, they both sat on their bedrolls, neither sleeping nor fully keeping watch. As open as the land was there, there was little chance of a bandit successfully sneaking up on them. It was times such as this that made Ariani recognize the benefit of a dog. Surely this Meeko would alert them if someone approached within a hundred yards. The hearing of dogs and their ability of smell was far superior.

They should have made it to Whiterun before nightfall, but battling two random dragons on the way there had delayed them. Despite Callum having spared Paarthurnax, he was still randomly attacked by dragons from time to time. Maybe not quite as often, but still often enough that a real difference was not noticed. Despite the waste of time, Ariani had enjoyed the battles. It was truly interesting to see Callum shout at the dragons in a language she could not understand; a true battle of words. Furthermore, while Callum favored restoration spells, it was fights such as those that highlighted his ability with destruction magic. A dragon in flight was far more susceptible to his magic than her swords. She had to wait until the dragon chose to land and that sometimes could take quite a while and quite a few health potions.

A heavy, sad sigh from Callum drew her gaze. He was not looking at her, but instead at the numerous stars overhead. She waited a few moments for him to speak. When he did not, she chose to initiate a conversation. “What is it?”

“It is always something,” he answered half-heartedly, still staring off in the distance. He paused a moment. “Gleda was just a goat and, while it is sad that she is probably dead, I am not as saddened by that now. But that poor child in Rorikstead. To grow up with such a father as that. You can almost not blame her sister for turning out as she has so far.”

“The family did seem dysfunctional,” Ariani replied, unsure of what else she could say.

“I don’t think dysfunctional is quite the right word, Ari.” A slight smile came to his face. “Hateful, horrible, just awful. Perhaps one of those would fit. No one should be subjected to a father such as that.”

“Not everyone can have a father like yours,” she replied easily, aware of the almost fairy tale childhood that Callum had recieved growing up.

Callum flinched slightly at her words and closed his eyes momentarily. It had been two years since his father’s death and he still seemed to feel the loss quite strongly. It had been a few months after Callum had taken her from the Falmer before he told her of why he had come to Skyrim and she remembered his story well.

In short, a Nord thief had slain Callum’s mother in the Imperial City, making off with an heirloom ring, among other goods, but the ring was the only thing that would be independently identifiable due to an inscription. The thief had fled towards Skyrim with Callum and his father in pursuit. Callum’s father had made Callum wait with their wagon, while he went in an inn to confront the thief. After several hours, Callum investigated and had found his father dead. Callum had pursued the thief, crossing over into Skyrim, but was captured by the Imperial Army and sentenced to death for trespassing before he could catch up to him. That was how Callum came to live in Skyrim. While Callum helped out the many people and jarls in Skyrim, he still looked for this thief whenever he could. As of now, Callum had not seen the thief again.

“Not everyone can, no,” Callum agreed softly. “But no one should have to grow up with such an abusive man.”

“And what would you prefer? For that little girl to grow up in an orphanage, absent family?”

“I have visited the orphanage in Riften, Ari,” he replied. She shot him a look of surprise. Besides seeing her, he seemed to avoid Riften like the plague, unless it was an absolutely necessity that he go there. “I wanted to see Skyrim’s orphanage. And Honorhall is the only orphanage in Skyrim,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she replied, choosing not to elaborate. She, too, had visited the orphanage, but for a much different reason than him.

“I had not met Grelod the Kind, but it is my understanding that things run much smoother and much nicer under the care of Constance Michel.” Callum paused for a few moments. “While I do not condone murder, and I wish that Grelod had been brought before the proper authorities for her supposed crimes, I can’t help but feel a little grateful that someone thought to remove Grelod from her position. Even if that removal involved murder.”

Ariani nodded at his words, but wondered if he would think the same thing if he knew it was her that had removed Grelod from the world of the living. Prior to Aventus Aretino, she had paid the orphanage no mind. Now, since it had led to her finding the Dark Brotherhood, she was pleased that she had interfered in the child’s affairs.

“Even if an orphanage is less than ideal, I think it would be a better alternative for Sissel,” he said softly, looking out in the darkness, instead of at Ariani.

“You know that her father would have to be dead for Sissel to wind up in the orphanage,” she reminded him. “And I don’t believe you would do that.” She said the word _believe_ , but she _knew_ that he wouldn’t kill the spiteful, old man.

“And I wouldn’t do that,” he agreed softly. He sighed, obviously trying to think of how the little girl could be helped. “Well, her father is an old man. Perhaps one day soon he will pass and she can go to the orphanage to find a caring family. Perhaps he will die of old age . . . or someone will kill him.” A small smile again played at his lips.

Ariani cocked her head to the side at his words, surprised by what he said.

“I am kidding, Ari,” he replied sincerely. “I would wish death on no man.”

“No man? Really, Cal? Maybe you just haven’t met the right ones yet,” she replied back quickly. She remained silent for a few moments, thinking on his words. “You are always advocating for us to look at all possible avenues of approach. Murdering the man is but one avenue,” she told him in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Would I like that poisonous man removed from his daughter’s life? Yes,” he paused for a moment. “But I will not, _cannot_ , condone murder.”

“You and your righteous upbringing,” Ariani commented, sounding mildly exasperated with him. She added in a somewhat serious tone, “sometimes being morally upstanding doesn’t get the job done, Cal.”

“And sometimes being less than honest makes one lose all their credibility, as well as their allies,” he answered in a quiet, yet very serious voice.

Ariani nodded, not agreeing with him, but not wanting to argue about it either. She cleared her throat. “So, if this man were to die through no fault of your own, you would not see it as a great loss?”

“I would consider it a blessing in disguise for his daughter,” Callum answered her evenly. He then met her eyes and said in a quiet, direct voice, “do not go and murder this man.” She was taken back a bit by the seriousness of his voice. “If he dies, he shall not be missed. Even so, we should not be running about killing people just because we disagree with them.”

Ariani did not immediately reply. Perhaps if those who did wrong were killed for their crimes, instead of awaiting the slow approach of justice, life would be better for everyone. Grelod and the Honorhall Orphanage was already proof of that. She kept her silence on those thoughts. Finally, she answered, “of course, Cal. That would be barbaric.”

Despite her words, already the wheels were turning in her head. Ariani let the conversation turn to talk of Whiterun and the many escapades taking place in the city. Jarl Balgruuf and Callum worked closely together to benefit Whiterun and that is perhaps why Callum chose that as his home and spent much of his time there. It was clear that the city of Whiterun held a special place in Callum’s heart.

Still, while she engaged in conversation with Callum, Ariani was already plotting the death of Sissel’s dad. She would keep her word and not slay the man herself. Surely she could find someone willing to do the job. Callum would probably be displeased at first when he heard the news of the man’s death, and he may even suspect her, but he would surely come to acknowledge it as a good choice, even if he would never voice that out loud. Perhaps, afterwards, Ariani could show him Sissel and her likely progress once the child was settled in the Honorhall Orphanage.


	5. Lemkil's Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter 2 of 2 to be uploaded today (9/20/2014).

Lemkil shifted on the straw mattress for the umpteenth time. Even the sound of their breathing annoyed him. Good for nothing children! It was their fault that his wife had died. To be blessed with his hard working and obedient wife, only to lose her and to be cursed with those two, infernal children. He would never understand the Gods. Sighing heavily, Lemkil lifted himself up off the bed, threw a scornful glare at his sleeping children, and exited the house. Maybe Mralki would give him a good drink to ease him back to sleep.

Lemkil began the trek towards the Frostfruit Inn, mumbling insults at his daughters, even though they were asleep and not in earshot. He was so used to complaining about them when they were present, he often found himself doing so even when they were not. People probably thought he was a crazy old man talking to himself at times, but he didn’t care.

An Argonian leaning against his neighbor’s house immediately caught his attention. The Argonian was nonchalantly leaning against the wall, but watching Lemkil intently, not lowering his eyes when their gazes met. Lemkil stopped short, having not expected to see another being out at this time of night, and certainly not an Argonian.

Letting out an angry huff of air, Lemkil called out harshly, “what are you doing here, Argonian? Better get on your way or I’ll alert the guards.”

The Argonian narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly, but did not answer and did not move from his spot. Lemkil let out a string of curse words, but turned slightly from the Argonian and again began to walk towards the Frostfruit Inn. The stupid Argonian could hold up the neighbor’s wall all night if he wanted.

Thinking of what drink he would try to score from Mralki, Lemkil momentarily forgot about the Argonian. A short time later, he glanced behind himself and noticed with surprise that the Argonian was following him. He stayed about ten feet behind him, but there could be no doubt that the Argonian was indeed following him. When he stopped, the Argonian stopped, but when he started walking again, so did the Argonian. It was almost like the Argonian was stalking him. Well, Lemkil was a true Nord and he wouldn’t let a small Argonian intimidate him. He turned quickly on his feet and met the Argonian’s gaze squarely. It was a bit surprising that the lizard didn’t meekly lower his eyes, as Lemkil had expected.

“What do you want?” Lemkil asked in a harsh tone.

The Argonian took a full minute before he answered. “Only cowards abuse little children.”

Lemkil was taken aback by the Argonian’s quiet words. No one had ever directly confronted him about his care of his children before. Sure, Eric had accuse him of being cruel, although he didn’t call it abuse and shortly thereafter dropped the subject, but the Argonian was being quite bold.

Lemkil straightened his back at the Argonian’s assumption. “It’s none of your business, lizard. Best keep yourself out of the affairs of others.”

The Argonian’s green eyes again just bored into him, but the lizard himself said nothing. Frustrated, Lemkil again turned from him and began walking.

This time the lizard followed him more closely and that really irritated Lemkil. The Argonian was far too bold and Lemkil found it astonishing that the lizard thought he could intimate him in Rorkistead. Lemkil turned abruptly on his feet and pushed the Argonian backwards. The Argonian stumbled slightly, but said nothing.

“Go on, get out of here. We don’t want your kind here,” Lemkil growled at him, feigning a confidence that he didn’t feel.

“If I was not wanted here, I would not be here,” the Argonian replied. “True enough, another could have been asked. Perhaps you would rather deal with a different trained killer, but, alas, you will have to make do with me. For it was asked of me, and not another.”

Lemkil almost didn’t comprehend what the Argonian was saying. “Trained killer?” he echoed.

The Argonian dipped his head. “Precisely.”

“Do not think to threaten me, Lizard!” Lemkil called out, though he took a few steps back. The Argonian again advanced on him, and Lemkil began to feel the panic rising in him. He swung his head from one way to the other, hoping to catch a glimpse of a guard. He saw no one.

Instead of speaking, the Argonian drew the sword from his belt. Truly terrified now, Lemkil decided to switch tactics. “You can have anything you want. Anything! I have done nothing wrong. Anything, please!”

The Argonian tsked. “We both know that isn’t true,” he said, with a shake of his head. “Be still now, Lemkil. Embrace the void.”

While Lemkil may have had an inkling about the Argonian, these words confirmed he was part of the Dark Brotherhood. His blood ran cold. Lemkil immediately turned and started to run for the Frostfruit Inn. Perhaps if he reached it in time, Mralki or even Jouane could help him. It was not to be. Within a few paces, Lemkil felt the Argonian’s hand wrap tightly around his shoulder, the fingertips digging into his flesh. Unable to move, Lemkil felt the blade go into his upper back. Due to the shock, he didn’t even feel real pain at the grievous wound. The Argonian held him in place for several seconds and Lemkil could feel his warm life’s blood ran freely from the wound. Finally, the Argonian released him and he fell.

“And now the deed is done,” the Argonian said quietly.

The darkness of death quickly claimed Lemkil.


End file.
